


To Be Unwrapped

by RuvikVictoriano



Category: Outlast (Video Games), Outlast: Whistleblower - Fandom
Genre: Forced Feminization, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 04:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2415725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuvikVictoriano/pseuds/RuvikVictoriano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in the middle of escaping from another variant chasing him down, Waylon makes a bad decision to try and wedge himself through a gated office window. And he gets stuck. Unfortunately for him, Eddie Gluskin discovers him in this situation and decides to take full advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Unwrapped

It hadn’t looked like a trap, not from a first glance. Waylon had actually passed by the oddly propped open office window earlier, peering in to find it only led to a secluded room with no other doors that could possibly bring him out of this hell hole. He ended up noticing it again at the wrong time, when he was being chased down by a screaming and psychotic variant who no doubt intended to do him harm.

When he’d managed to get a good distance between them, Waylon spotted the narrow opening and thought it might provide a safe place to hide. The metal sliding was open just enough that he could squeeze through; it was a perfect plan.

Breathing softly and trying to keep quiet, Waylon shoved at the metal gate and pushed it up, but it didn’t budge more than an inch. It likely had a few gears stuck, but he didn’t have time to waste. Panicked as he was, Waylon pulled himself up and crawled through the opening, heart beating a mile a minute. Setting his camera down on the desk directly under him now, he reached out and grabbed the ledge to pull himself the rest of the way through.

His eyes widened when he found himself unable to move further. With the angle of the metal window and how it had been positioned, Waylon didn’t have enough room to wiggle his hips past. He reached back to shove at the gate, gritting his teeth when it refused to move even the slightest.

He would have wedged himself back out, until he heard the yelling. Turning proved useless, and he couldn’t see who it was or what was going on. A cold chill went through him at his predicament. He was stuck in window, unable to defend himself from the horrors released here at Mount Massive. The yelling grew louder until he could hear the words being shouted, but it was joined by another. Two men were yelling at one another, and Waylon couldn’t see a goddamn thing.

“Who the  _fuck_  are you?!” shouted the first, followed by angry panting. “Come here. I want to see you smile!”

“Such a foul mouth,” said the other, and Waylon felt his panic increase. He squirmed against the metal gate, thrashing to weasel himself out. That voice was the Groom’s, it was unmistakable. “I’ll have to fix that…”

“Fucker!” shouted the other. The sound of stomping occurred then, loud like thunder. “Let go, you piece of shit!”

There was more stomping, a loud crashing sound, and a panicked Waylon thrashed harder against the gate of the window. Whoever the winner of the fight would be would no doubt notice his legs on the other side, and when that happened he would be done for.

A violent scream erupted from a man’s throat, and Waylon wasn’t sure who it belonged to. He stilled in fear to listen as it died down, and there was a thump as something heavy was dropped. It was quiet for a long while after, a couple minutes at least. Had they both died? Or had the winner of the fight left?

He was wrong on both guesses.

“… _Darling?_ ” Eddie called out, and Waylon’s blood ran cold. Eddie continued, steps coming close to the gated window. “Oh my, you’ve gotten yourself stuck. Allow me to help you…”

“N-no!” Waylon stammered, kicking his legs and slamming one hand back against the metal gate, attempting to twist onto his back to better defend himself. “Stay away from me!”

He felt a strong hand grab the back of one leg and shove it at an angle, making room for the other man to stand between Waylon’s legs. Next there were hands on his hips, gripping him in preparation to pull back. Out of instinct to get away, Waylon gripped the desk and refused to be yanked out. He’d seen what Eddie did to people when a saw was around. He would rather be shanked to death than endure that. It was better to be stuck.

“Goodness!” Eddie exclaimed, sounding mildly amused when he stopped pulling on Waylon’s hips. “You’re pretty stuck. What am I going to do with you?”

Waylon was tossing from side to side, hoping he could inch his way in. He was making some progress, at least that was what it felt like before Eddie’s hold on his hips brought him right back to square one. He tried to kick somehow, for all the good it did it.

“Darling, stop your squirming,” The Groom gently demanded, hands sliding  _far_  too intimately around Waylon’s hips, moving to feel the front of his thighs. “…or did you intend for me to find you this way?”

That didn’t sound good at all.

He tolerated it all for about a minute before he started thrashing again, legs flailing uselessly as he tried desperately to squeeze forward, to get as far the fuck away from Eddie Gluskin as he could. Eddie gripped his uniform and tugged again. This was no good. He could barely move forward, and being pulled back was death. Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“I see what you’re up to,” he heard Eddie say, the man’s voice sounding far too pleased. Waylon felt a wave of disgust assault his tongue when Eddie’s hands felt over his ass, making him tense up.

“Knock it off!” he growled. “Don’t touch me, you motherfucker!”

“I do love it when you act coy,” The Groom replied, his touch remaining right where it was. “Gifting yourself to me like this-”

“Please stop!” Waylon interrupted, his words coming out of a dry throat. He tried squirming again, and an unwanted shiver left him when Eddie’s fingers felt between his open thighs. “Don’t touch me! Stop!”

“Don’t move too much, Darling.”

Waylon froze when he heard cloth tearing.

“I wouldn’t want to accidentally cut you.”

He felt the dull side of a knife tap against his tailbone, followed by more sounds of tearing. Waylon whimpered in realization of what was being done to his uniform. Eddie was cutting it open. Waylon was going to be made naked and-

“L-let me go!” he begged. He was reaching for the ledge of the desk again, pulling himself forward. He ignored the protest his hips gave against the edge of the window gate, and he lightly kicked to help himself a little more. “Leave me alone, p-please!”

“Darling, what did I tell you about struggling?” Eddie questioned, patting Waylon’s ass right after. “You’re upsetting me…”

Waylon’s spine tensed and he shouted with pain as what felt like fire streaked across his back in a single hot line. Something tickled down his side, blood dripping from a wound no doubt. Eddie had dragged the knife over his back. Trying to ease the pain, Waylon relaxed with a muffled grunt, shivering when he felt fingers trail over the cut. Eddie bent over him, and Waylon hissed as a warm tongue licked over the wound.

_Disgusting…_

“Please…” Waylon begged, tensing with each flick of Eddie’s tongue. “Please stop…  _it hurts_ …”

There was one last slow lick, and Waylon tried to curl up to defend himself, but of course it was wasted effort. There was the cold chill of the blade pressing to his side, a very real threat, and Eddie chuckled softly,  _sweetly_.

“Be a  _good girl_ ,” Eddie said. “And hold still.”

Nodding, Waylon agreed. But he realized Eddie couldn’t see the confirming gesture, and he repeated his answer vocally. “I won’t m-move.”

Whatever Eddie was going to do to him, Waylon prayed it would be quick and painless. After everything he had suffered, after all that he had endured, he was sure he couldn’t take anymore. He wanted to get out, and he wanted to burn this entire damned place to the ground with everyone inside of it.

His uniform was torn just to expose his lower back, and the minimal amount of skin that became exposed gave Waylon a chill of cool air over sensitive skin. Eddie seemed to be quietly examining him, a single wandering digit gliding down along Waylon spine and over his tailbone, down to more private areas that made him involuntarily tense up. He didn’t want to be touched there, but the light press of the knife to his side reminded him to be complacent, and he relaxed as best as he could.

Eddie hummed that same tune he had when they’d first encountered the other, and Waylon grit his teeth, trying to think past how his person was being violated without care. The other man’s fingers pressed against his scrotum, under the base of his limp cock, and Waylon heard a noise of disgust.

_Please don’t cut it off, please don’t cut it off, please!!!!_

Those same fingers dipped against Waylon’s opening, and Waylon’s stomach muscles clenched as he fought the urge to vomit. Nervous sweat broke out over his skin, and he shook his head, lightly kicking in meek protest. The fingers weren’t pushing in at all, but the prodding… it was still horrid.

Sensing Waylon’s oncoming refusal, Eddie slapped his ass with an open palm, the angry sting of the harsh blow making Waylon’s entire body twitch in his confined spot, a confused wail leaving his mouth. Eddie sighed, a loud and exaggerated sound like a disappointed parent scolding their child.

“Didn’t I tell you to hold still?”

Another swat, this one just as intense as the first, and Waylon was gripping the desk again and wriggling to get away from it. Eddie’s hands groped him then, and the friction burned coupled with his sweat.

“Stop! STOP! LET ME GO!”

Deep, foreboding laughter sounded behind Waylon, beyond the metal window separating him from Eddie. Strong hands gripped him hard, fingers digging into his flesh, and Waylon bit the inside of his cheek to ignore the dull agony that he felt from it. He was so fucking sick of this, and he hated himself for getting into this mess.

All at once his body sagged, showing his defeat, and he was lucky to be rewarded by Eddie’s touch departing from his sore ass.

“Are we going to behave, my love?”

Waylon didn’t move. He sniffled quietly, brow furrowing in anger that he had tears forming in his eyes. This wasn’t going to be his end. If he could get out somehow, he would continue on and find a way out of this place. He would survive.  _He had to_.

Eddie’s hands slid down over the backs of his thighs again, and Waylon ignored it, letting the man do as he pleased. Fighting this madman would bring him nothing. Cooperating was the best chance he had. Eddie would take what he wanted, hopefully leave, and then Waylon would be free to escape.

“ _Ah_ … good girl,” Eddie’s voice turned husky again. Those hands returned to his abused cheeks, holding them apart and exposing Waylon’s opening.  _Fuck it_. Waylon didn’t care anymore. “…You’ll enjoy this, I’m sure.”

Whatever Eddie had planned, it involved him prying Waylon’s ass open as much as possible. There was a fierce burn of humiliation that colored Waylon’s face red, and a sharp sting of pain came along with it as he bit his cheek harder.  _Ignore it, Waylon. He’ll get his kicks and go._

A pleased hum sounded in Eddie’s throat, a strange sound, thumb ghosting over Waylon’s entrance and making his body twitch like a cord being plucked. He hated this. Why couldn’t Eddie just do what he was going to do and be done with it?!

“You’re so  _pink_  here, Darling,” Eddie commented, making Waylon clench his eyes shut with embarrassment. “Pink and lovely.”

Waylon’s breathing picked up, a panicked wheeze exiting his throat. Eddie’s thumb brushed over his asshole again, _teasingly_. Waylon cringed; anything that felt like pleasure made him want to gag. He couldn’t… he couldn’t take this.

“I wonder how you’ll taste?”

Before Waylon could begin to process that thought, the floorboards on the other side of the window creaked, and a heated puff of Eddie’s breath warmed his private parts. Waylon tensed too late, his thrashing too delayed when he felt something hot and wet flick over his opening that caused a sinful chill of mixed pleasure to ride up his spine. A tortured and confused noise escaped him, fingers clenching so hard that his palms hurt as blunt nails dug in. His legs had tensed so fiercely they felt like they were cramping now.

Eddie’s mouth latched onto a random area of flesh next to the end of his spine, the man biting him playfully as those strong hands parted his cheeks again, and another amused laugh sounded from deep within The Groom’s wide chest.

“You like that, Darling?”

Waylon was at a complete loss for words. He was shocked from it, but he didn’t want it repeated again. He cleared his throat, trying desperately to speak, but Eddie wasn’t waiting for an answer.

The same sensation came again, slower this time, a wet trail making it’s way from the back of Waylon’s sac and over his hole again, ending right at his tailbone. Something like a strangled moan left Waylon, and he slammed his hands against the desk in front of him, overcome by both nausea and blissful lust. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t  _fucking believe_  his body was so weak that something as disgusting as this felt good to him right now.

“ _Stop_ ,” he gasped, failing at sounding like this was the final straw. “I don’t… just stop,  _I can’t_ …”

It happened again, the exact same touch, and Waylon’s eyes closed in frustration when another pulse of electric-like euphoria traveled through his veins. He lightly kicked, shaking his head again and refusing to take any of this for more than what it was. Eddie was subjecting him to perverse fantasies, nothing more, he would endure this and then-

And then Eddie’s tongue twisted against his opening, barely wriggling inward,  _into him_ , and Waylon arched back against the window with another helpless murmur of discomfort. He was pushing against the desk, straining, trying to pull himself forward and away from that hot mouth and wandering tongue. He couldn’t get away.

Bowing his head, Waylon panted when those sensations flooded his system without warning. Eddie was gently lapping at his asshole, and the gentleness of it was probably what tricked Waylon into thinking it felt  _good_. His body had been through so much pain, so much exhaustion; it was almost as if his body was now craving for something as sweet as this, no matter what horrible circumstances came with it.

There was a tightness forming in the front of Waylon’s uniform, and he realized with complete and utter hatred for himself that his cock was erect now. It twitched, straining against the rough fabric, and it pulsed with life during each slow lick of Eddie’s tongue.

He swallowed, trying to keep himself from vomiting. Waylon needed a distraction. He needed something,  _anything_  to focus on other than the way that velvety tongue slid against his entrance.

The pain in his leg… he could focus on that deep, stinging agony. Or the cut on his back, which flared like fire due to its relative newness. He opened his eyes, looking around for something to concentrate on. Colors, corners, anything, vision darting around with increased urgency as he felt Eddie change his tactics.

Instead of that slow petting, Eddie’s tongue was twirling in circles, and the way it rubbed into him made Waylon start to quiver. The other man’s lips came together in a kiss, and he heard Eddie panting as he finally pulled away, palms rubbing Waylon’s ass encouragingly.

“I can feel you shaking,” Eddie told him, making Waylon bite his lip in complete humiliation. “Enjoy the feeling of my tongue so much~?”

_Fuck you._

He felt his asshole being exposed to the air again, this time making him feel cold from how much of Eddie’s saliva covered his skin. Waylon was disgustingly certain that it had dribbled over his balls, because even that part of him felt somewhat chilled. Eddie hummed, extremely pleased with himself. Waylon only prayed he couldn’t see how fucking stiff his cock was at the moment. If Eddie did, he might end up carving it off…

“ _Darling_ …” Eddie cooed, as if he were praising the other. Waylon’s body actually jumped when he felt the next touch, what felt like knuckles brushing the back of his cock. “Your cunt is dripping so much…”

He heard Eddie hiss, a sexual noise, and Waylon’s cock bounced slightly from the way Eddie’s fingers brushed against it. It had taken him a bit off guard, the way Eddie was so delusional that he didn’t call Waylon’s genitals for what they were. Or maybe he was surprised by how dirty it made him feel.

The touch left him, hands holding him open once more, and Waylon cried out when that hot tongue assaulted him again. His eyes rolled back on their own, completely overwhelmed by how good it felt to have that soothing touch rolling against his asshole.

“No-” he whined, shaking his head again regardless if it could be seen. He felt his toes curl. Why the fuck was he giving in so easily? It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter, but still… “Stop,  _stop it_ , pl-please-!”

That was the when the shaking began again, so intense that Waylon could feel it through his entire body. He felt so weak, he couldn’t even hold himself up from the desk anymore, and he resolved to lay his forehead and arms against it while he was rimmed.

“ _Fuck_ …” he whispered under his breath, choking, and another shiver ran up his back. “God,  _please_ …”

Eddie’s tongue moved in gentle strokes, circling the ring of Waylon’s asshole; kissing in between changing his technique to those teasing licks, like he was licking up a stray speck of ice-cream off a cone. It was torture, and Waylon would kill himself before admitting that it felt so damned good.

His face felt terribly hot. Shit, his whole body did. And it was now that he chose to consciously realize that he was inching his hips back little by little, silently demanding more of Eddie’s tongue to roll against his relaxed orifice. He buried his face into his arms, whimpering. He couldn’t believe he was reacting this way.

And, from the way Eddie was increasing the pace his tongue moved at, the man must have felt encouraged by Waylon’s submission.

A whine trailed off into a groan when Waylon felt Eddie’s tongue push into his ass, wriggling with some small measure of ease due to how relaxed the captive man’s body had become. It pushed in  _too_  easily; Waylon tensed up with fear until he felt angry fingers digging into his spread buttocks, which forced him to will away the feeling of disgust and allow Eddie as much room as he needed.

Who the hell liked doing this willingly?

He was starting to become lost to it now. The gentle back and forth slide of Eddie’s tongue, the way it slipped out and soothingly trailed in wide circles, all of it felt relaxing and pleasurable. With each exhale Waylon was letting out a quiet moan, and his cock twitch hungrily while it demanded attention.

Shit, he even caught himself wondering how Eddie’s lips would feel sucking the head of his dick. He quickly let the thought go because it disturbed him, but the small image alone sent a sharp spike of arousal to lance through him. And again, his body trembled, squeezing his eyes shut when he felt the other man’s tongue dart inside of him again, dipping into the forbidden recesses of Waylon’s body and driving him further into madness.

Waylon’s toes curled again and he groaned loudly when he noticed what felt like a premature orgasm shoot through him, bringing with it that intense flutter of heat right between his legs. Had Eddie made him come already? That… no…

No, he could still feel his cock, harder than ever, twitching against the now cold and wet front of his uniform. Waylon stared off in shock, confused about what he’d felt, when he felt it again as Eddie’s tongue pushed into him, twisting inside of him as far as it could reach.

When the sensation repeated, harder this time, Waylon arched back and cried out with want. He felt good,  _unbelievably good_ , and he felt so close to release. He didn’t even know it was possible to get this hard from something like…  _this_.

“ _Oh God_ …” he whispered, speaking below his breath, terrified to be heard.

Eddie’s tongue trailed out, circling slow, counterclockwise around the rim of his entrance. Waylon pressed back as far as his hips would allow, taking in sharp breaths and focusing on that sensation pulsing through his cock.

As the flat of Eddie’s tongue licked over Waylon’s thoroughly relaxed opening, Waylon arched against the metal window holding him captive, thighs tensing, and he almost cried with a broken sob when the man’s tongue pushed  _inside_  again. That was the last thing Waylon remembered focusing on before his orgasm hit him, with swift and mind-numbing intensity and a helpless moan that tore itself straight from his chest.

Everything was twitching, alive with vivid ecstasy that scorched deep into his very being. He clutched the desk, and his cock shot little bursts of cum against his uniform, twitching powerfully enough that even through this fog of bliss Waylon was very much aware of it. He was nearly convulsing from how thoroughly this orgasm had wracked his body, spasming from his shoulders to his feet. Even his asshole was throbbing, and he knew this only because Eddie’s tongue was still very much pressed inside of it.

He came down from his little high slowly, and with the crushing shame of what had just transpired. Eddie’s tongue circled his opening one last time before he withdrew, breathing like he’d run a marathon. There was a bit of heavy petting over the span of Waylon’s backside, and then he felt Eddie retreat from between his legs. Waylon wasn’t moving; his entire body felt like jelly at the moment.

“That was beautiful of you, Darling,” Eddie told him, one last fleeting touch moving possessively down Waylon’s thigh. “You stay right there. I’ll be back shortly to help you out of there.”

The captive man strained to listen over the hammering sound of his heart in his chest. Eddie was walking away down the hall.

“And then we’ll make an  _honest_  woman out of you.”

In the exact second Waylon could no longer hear footsteps, Waylon pushed against the desk to inch himself back out, grabbing his camera just as he felt himself gaining freedom. Getting out was easier than getting in, and the proof was gained by how he merely slipped out like pulling off an old glove, stumbling onto the ground. He had to take a breather, and his legs shook uneasily when he started to quickly limp down the hall.

One glance off to the side, and he saw the corpse left from his previous attacker, the one Eddie killed.

_Good riddance_.

Though his stomach felt uneasy with what had just happened, Waylon resolved to forget the entire damn thing. He had to. He would go crazy otherwise.

His mind was set on escaping, and nothing would get in his way again. He just had to remember to avoid dodgy hiding places… And get a different uniform on now.


End file.
